Are you the retiring type?

Well this really is an odd day - my last as a full-time employee. Seven years as a pupil at MGS in the 60s, followed by 33 years here as English teacher, Head of Lower School, Surmaster and Development Director end today. Simon Jones takes over as Development Director and I stay on as a part-time Adviser.

My father retired from his semi-skilled manual job as soon as he was able, and hasn't regretted it. I am thinking that semi-retirement will suit me well - I still have MGS things that I am really interested in (and I have almost 10,000 emails in my Inbox, all read but not all acted upon), but a little more 'me' time will not come amiss. There are many things to sort out at home (that's how it is when you are lucky enough to live in a house built in 1620), and there's an extended family to create more time for.

So - are you retired? and how is it? or how do you feel about the prospect if you haven't reached the appropriate age yet?

Do you still get nervous?

One of the great advantages of getting older, it seems to me, is that it's more difficult than it used to be to find situations which are embarrassing. You reach a certain stage in life and people can either take you or leave you. A couple of years ago I travelled to Exeter for a cathedral service taking (as I thought) my suit in a carrier along with my overnight bag. Come the Sunday morning, the carrier revealed a suit jacket but no trousers, and there was no opportunity to do a quick bit of shopping. So I attended that service, and the lunch afterwards, wearing my suit jacket with my travelling jeans. Most people there whom I knew were far too polite to comment. Those who stared got the true story. Not a problem.

This may not be a week for embarrassment, but it is one for nerves, thankfully not mine. Today we are appointing an MGS Archivist, and while I'm not an official interviewer, I am meeting the candidates, and admiring how they control their nerves. They really want this job, and only one can get it. It will be a really important role, shaping a new department to present the school's collection of historical material to pupils and the outside world in an interesting and exciting way. The person appointed will also work with all those who will be looking at the history of the school, and Manchester, in the light of our 500th birthday in 5 years' time.

On Thursday, our senior 6th formers get their A level results (if they haven't already got their IB scores), so they are entitled to be feeling pretty nervous, too. There'll be lots of joy as the results envelopes are opened, but some sadness, too, no doubt. All the indications from the university world are that this is not going to be an easy year if you fall short of your expected grades. So good luck, lads - glad I'm not 18 again.

A taste of summer

It's August and traditionally the silly season in the press. So, let's have an equivalent here on the DevOff blog.

Many weeks ago, Julie sowed some giant sunflower seeds and presented all the DevOff staff with little plants to take away to grow as a bit of a competition. Not that we're a competitive lot - oh no!

Jane, Julie and Simon went for the pot cultivation method. I'm not sure they realised what intensive care they were dedicating themselves to - regular watering and feeding would be essential, even if they had chosen a big enough pot. Being a coarse gardener, I chose a spot in the middle of our field, dug a big hole, filled it with well-rotteded horse manure and planted the little beauty on top. Then I more or less forgot it for weeks.

The first bad news came from Simon, whose darling daughter loved his plant so much that she hugged it, breaking the stem. I don't think sunflowers benefit from having their growing point removed - exit Simon from the competition. I showed him a photograph of my plant around this time and he accused me, on the basis of the background flora, of having sent it to my friends Brian and Joy in Provence for cultivation. But no, it's been in Flintshire all the time.

Next a violent rainstorm took out Julie's pride and joy. It seemed harsh that she who had propagated all the plants should exit the competition, so I gave her a 50% share of mine. Then Jane reported that her plant had 5 flowers on it, although it was only about 3 feet high. She didn't seem impressed when I told her that plants are programmed to flower and produce seed when they realise they are soon going to die.

I didn't bother to water my sunflower, but the heavens did, copiously, throughout July. Now the weather is rather better, and as you can see below, it is capped by one splendid flower at a height exceeding my 8 feet reach. I claim victory for Julie and me!